Vanilla
by StringynKel
Summary: “Vanilla.” It has a sweet scent when you first smell it, but it’s not until you taste it that you realize just how bitter it can really be.


I stare bleakly into my cup of coffee, inhaling its bitter scent. It's six o'clock, way too early for a seventeen-year-old like me to be awake, let alone working in a lab with dangerous chemicals and even more dangerous colleagues. Somewhere in the background, I hear Braig and Dilan arguing and the sound of something being knocked over and crashing to the ground. Xehanort swears, and Aeleus sighs and shuffles off to find a mop to clean up whatever it is that fell. I lean closer to my cup of coffee, continuing to breathe in its bitter fumes.

"Do you plan on drinking that, or are you just going to get high off the fumes?" a voice sounds from over my shoulder. I look up and am instantly met with a pair of jade-green eyes. I move my chair over a few inches to make room for Even at the table where I am sitting, and he immediately sets down a notebook full of unintelligible equations in an unintelligible scrawl that I have learned to associate with university graduates. Next, he sets down a vanilla frappuccino. Finally, he himself sits down; close enough for me to smell the vanilla in his breath as he takes a sip of his beverage. We sit in silence for a moment, before he speaks.

"With those two conducting experiments," he says, waving a pale hand toward Braig and Dilan, "I'm surprised we've managed to survive this far into our research." I smile, partially at the comment, and partially because though I have wanted to talk to Even about our research for months, this is the first time he has actually talked to me. I take this opportunity to continue the conversation.

"So, what are your opinions on the results of our latest experiment?" I ask after taking a tentative sip of my coffee. It is still hot, and it is all I can do not to yelp as it burns my tongue.

"They're interesting, to say the least," Even says, stirring his frappuccino with his straw. I marvel at how he can manage to drink something so cold when the labs are kept at nearly subzero temperatures, but cold never seemed to phase Even. "I must admit," he continues, "I was surprised at how accurate your hypothesis turned out being." I smile inside at this, ecstatic at receiving a complement from the esteemed scientist. If I show any elation, though, Even takes no notice. He takes another drink of his frappuccino and rises, muttering, "I'll see you later."

I stay there for a few moments, inhaling the scent he leaves behind. It is sweet and fragrant, like a bottle of vanilla when it is first opened.

* * *

I walk through the halls of Castle Oblivion, a rather unnecessary action as I could just teleport wherever I want to go, but walking helps clear my thoughts and keeps me focused. I continue walking until I reach the lab. Vexen is there, leaning over a vast array of test tubes, muttering angrily under his breath. I can commiserate; things at Castle Oblivion have gotten out of control. Marluxia and Larxene seem intent on making their seniors utterly miserable, and Axel has been acting strange lately. The Keyblade Master has been running rampant, and though no one will admit it, everyone is anxious concerning the outcome of these events.

Vexen has been under more and more stress every day, as Marluxia keeps setting impossible deadlines for the completion of experiments and projects. Lexaeus and I help whenever we can, but lately I've been spending more time away from the lab; the sudden increase in stress has revealed a side of Vexen that I didn't even know existed, much less wanted to see.

Vexen continues to hover over his chemicals, cursing everyone from King Mickey to that one dusk who always forgets that he hates whipped cream on his frappuccinos. He remains unaware of my presence, his blond hair hanging over his eyes and obstructing his view of the door. I clear my throat and he looks up.

"What is it this time, VI?" he says in his most scathing, sarcastic voice. "More deadlines?" He sounds tired, even angry, though I know that without a heart, he cannot really feel either.

"No," I whisper, barely audible, "I just came to see how the replica is coming." I am not used to Vexen talking to me like that; even when under extreme stress, he still makes sure not to sound hostile around me.

"It's coming, alright," Vexen mutters bitterly. "But there's no way I'll have it completed by the time XI wants it done." He turns back to his chemicals, and I hear a small explosion.

"Shit!" Vexen shouts, hurling a slightly blackened test tube against the wall. He sits down, his head in his hands.

I take a tentative step towards him and ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He looks up at me incredulously. "What could you possibly do to help? You don't know the first thing about genetic engineering or biosimulation." His eyes narrow into a piercing, icy glare.

"I just want to help you, relieve some of the stress," I say, even more quietly than before.

"Well, you can't," Vexen says bitterly, standing up and stepping forward so that he towers over me. "You don't have the proper training or experience, you don't know the results of past experiments, and you don't even know how to go about procuring the results I am trying to get. Compared to Lexaeus and myself you are a mere child, both physically and mentally, and that is all you will ever be."

Speechless, I turn around and begin to walk out of the lab. Before I go, I mutter under my breath a single word: "Vanilla." It has a sweet scent when you first smell it, but it's not until you taste it that you realize just how bitter it can really be.


End file.
